


In Hiding

by Caprikat



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gay, GrowingUp, Intersex, M/M, Self-Hatred, Slash, Slice of Life, bestfriends, friendstolovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:35:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21557125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caprikat/pseuds/Caprikat
Summary: An abnormal, disgusting creature. That's how Kennedy viewed himself. Ever since he was born, the prospects of being normal were hard for him. He had to acknowledge as he got older, that he could never be like the other boys. He was different, he was intersex, and he hated himself for it. But when his childhood friend returns to him, unexpected feelings arise and he learns to accept himself . Follow the story of a young boy's journey of maturity and self-discovery.Please read the tags.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	1. In Hiding: Part 1

"You're a freak," Kennedy whispered to himself, peering at his reflection in disgust. Tears left his glossy hazel eyes, and streamed down to his cheeks. Tracing his hands around his petit chest, he wished they were strong pectorals instead of fat. He wanted to be brawny, firm, built like soldier, but he was not; he was dainty, and lithe. His hands continued to reach further down until they met the curves of his hips. They were wide, wider than what they were supposed to be, but not completely noticeable when he wore baggy jeans.

The young man gulped, his eyes narrowing at the small appendage that hung between his smooth legs. Grasping the small thing in his hand, he lifted it up, and revealed his most secretive parts: his female genitalia. It was was pink, fleshy, consisting of—

Kennedy shuddered, repulsed by the sight. Oh, how he wished he could be a normal boy. "You're a freak," he repeated to himself, closing his eyes tightly. He didn't want to look at himself anymore. Quickly, he grabbed the binder from the sink's cabinet, tightly bundling it around his chest. It was hard to breath, but the pain was only a mere price to pay in order to protect his secret. The rest of his clothing were lying on the tile floors. He took them, putting them on within seconds. 

There was a knock on the door, and the boy jumped slightly from the sudden sound. 

"Kennedy, dear, Seth and his family are here," his mom called out. 

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute, ma," he replied, parting the wavy, ebony hair to the side, adding some sculpting cream to it so it would stay in place. Kennedy examined himself one last time, patting down any crinkles in his outfit. 

Anxious. That was the only word to describe the moment. He hadn't seen Seth in nearly four years. It was the first time since he had moved that the older teen visited. It was early in the summer, and the Moore family decided that their visit was long over due. So, they rented a cabin not to far from Kennedy's house. 

He won't know. You look like a boy. You sound like a boy–albeit, not a very manly one, but still a boy, not a girl, he reassured. With clammy hands, he turned the knob of the door, opening it.

Seth was sitting there on the bed, immersing himself in their middle school yearbook. He was older, more refined looking, masculine; his ash brown hair was gelled back, aqua eyes sharp and smoldering. Although he was sitting down, Kennedy could tell that he was endowed with a lean and tall body. 

He felt envious of Seth. The older boy was practically a paragon of what he wanted to be, but what he never could achieve.

Seth's eyes looked up from the book, and he placed it on the bed, his full attention on pale boy. He smiled, showing off a dazzling simper. "Hey Midge, how've you've been?" the olive skinned teen asked, standing up from the bed, hands in his pockets. 

Kennedy's heart was palpitating out of proportions, but he remained calm, ignoring the intense drumming.

"I told you not to call me that, Sethson. And I'm not that short." The smaller boy smirked, acting wittier than his usual self. 

"I admit you've grown a little. A little. But you're still a hell a lot shorter than me." Walking closer, Seth crouched down so that he was the same height as Kennedy, staring into the boy's eyes, his eyes gleaming in mischievous curiosity. Seth noticed that Kennedy was still boyish looking, his eyelashes long, and face still round, but the younger boy was no longer nerdy; he didn't sport geeky glasses, have any metal bars stuck in his mouth, or even pimples. The older teen had to admit that he was kind of cute, for a guy.

He ruffled his hair.

"Hey asshole, stop it! I just fixed that," Kennedy laughed, trying to swat his hand away, but the older boy was adamant in ruining till it looked like the the bristles of a witch's broom. Wrapping his arm around the pale boy's neck, he playfully continued to dishevel the mane. They were moving ungainly around the bedroom, bumping into everything in sight, their legs tangling over one another until they finally landed on the bed, heaving. 

Seth was positioned on top of the smaller boy, his hands still rumpling the ebony locks. "Dude, stop it!" Kennedy protested, wheezing from laughter.

"Not until you say, uncle," Seth teased, chuckling. The movements were becoming rowdier, their hands roaming one another. At this point, they were rough housing. It was a nostalgic feeling, one that reminded Kennedy of the time when they were just children playing in mud. As kids, they were innocent; things such as gender were irrelevant, but as the boy got older, he started to realize that he wasn't like other males.

Accidentally, in the midst of their messing around, Seth's hand skidded over the smaller boy's chest, and Kennedy stifled a breath, his heart dropping, a sense of dread invaded his body. "Stop it," he demanded but the older boy believed that they were still joking, and kept going.

"Not until you say, uncle," he repeated, tugging on the strands of Kennedy's hair.

"I said stop, you asshole!" They were playing around, and then the next thing he knew, Kennedy had slapped him, hard, a red hand print plastered on his cheek.

The older teen's face distorted into confusion, his eyebrow arched as he looked down at the pale boy in front of him, trying to comprehend what happened. Suddenly, with all the strength Kennedy had, he pushed the Seth off of him, and the tanned teen stumbled off the bed, falling on his ass. 

The pale boy promptly got off the bed, his arms shaking a bit. Although he knew Seth didn't know his secret, he couldn't help but feel scared, petrified that perhaps if his hand stayed longer than it did, he would have figured it out. Paranoia started to get to Kennedy, and the effects were frightening.

"I should probably meet the others down stairs. Join me when you feel like it." His voice was detached, completely contrary to his joyful self moments ago. He didn't even dare to look at Seth before he slammed the bedroom door shut, leaving him behind.

The older teen stared at the door, too stunned to make any sense of what happened. He was not sure what he had done to make the younger boy so angry. All he knew was that they were playing, perhaps a little too rough, and then, bam, he smacked him as hard as he could. It was very odd. When they were kids, no matter how hard they tackled one another, bruising one another, Kennedy had never been so eager to win, but now, there was something wrong.


	2. In Hiding: Part 2

The incident left Seth nonplussed. Countless of times he tried to approach Kennedy and apologized for what happened, but the young man had refused look at him. But, today would be different. Both families had scheduled to have a picnic at the Grandvue Park, and the older teen thought of it as a great opportunity to get him alone.

On the top of the hill laid a huge red, plaid blanket with baskets on it, hiding in the shade of an oak tree. Besides the blanket and food, there was no one there. Both families had scattered around the area, playing a game of hide and seek. Seth was found first the last round. He might not have been a great hider, but as a seeker, he was glad to have perfect vision.

He had one goal in mind: find Kennedy.

He scavenged the the place, his eyes keening on anything that moved. 

Kennedy thought he was in a good position, his body curling up within the bush. But when large, muscular arms had wrapped themselves around his waist, he froze, his head turning upwards to meet the older boy's piercing eyes.

"Found you." Seth voice was a soft whisper. His hot lips were right next to the rim of the the ebony's boy ear, making Kennedy shudder. His face became hot and bothered by the proximity. "We need to talk Midge, really."

Gulping, Kennedy nodded. He knew that he couldn't Seth for long, but he still felt embarrassed, even ashamed of his actions. Steadily, the pale boy got out of the large shrub. His hands were all clammy, and gross, but despite that, the older teen grasped it tight, as if afraid to let go.

"Follow me."

Kennedy did as he was told, trailing right behind the older teen. Honestly, he didn't know where they were going. The path Seth seemed to be taking was odd; they were still in the park, but they were off to the farther side, with much more foliage. He kept tugging, urging the smaller boy to go faster, and his grip was hurting his arm.

"Seth—slow down, you're hurting me," he said, his voice ragged.

Abruptly, the taller boy let go of his wrist, and turned around. "I'm sorry. Really, I am," he sighed, his hand tugging at his hair in frustration. 

"Seth, are you okay?" When the brunette gaze turned to him, he was surprised. Never had he seen the tan boy's eyes seem sad.

Seth remained silent for a moment, then with a hesitant whimper he asked a stifling question. "Do you hate me?"

"No!" His voice came out a lot louder than he intended. "No, I could never hate you. That time I was just not feeling well."

The brightness of the taller boy's grin was blinding. Even in the depths of the park, where sunlight was blocked by the large, green timber, his simper still shinned. Kennedy never knew that he had such an effect on the older boy. 

How was it possible for someone to be desolate one moment then spilling with joy in another? Was Kennedy that important to him?

His chest felt tight.

The small boy grasped at his shirt, trying to calm the banging in his rib cage. Seth came closer, and Kennedy gulped, the squeezing sensation exacerbating as the taller boy stood only mere inches away from him. He looked down at him.

"So," he asked, his voice calm, and sweet, "do you forgive me?" He was purposely giving Kennedy a smoldering look.

"Yeah," Kennedy chuckled, "as long as you forgive me too."

"Deal."

It was now silent, and both parties were just staring at one another as if they were curious children. An odd feeling of yearning to touch bolted through the smaller boy's body. Kennedy was mesmerized by the way Seth was looking at him, and he instinctively found himself on the tip of his toes, leaning in.

And when Seth was leaning as well, the smaller boy's urge intensified. Kennedy's plump pink lips brushed against his. It was a brief kiss, only lasting about a second, but nevertheless it was his first. He was in a daze in a moment, smiling to himself, but once he had realized what he'd done, he stepped back, stupefied by his own actions.

"Shit, sorry," Kennedy mumbled, his fingers trailing over lips. His face was even more red than before. Now, it was practically the color of a cherry red tomato. 

The taller boy was about to open his mouth and say something, but he was never given the opportunity. Ruffling from the nearby greenery had caught the two boy's attention. A pretty, petite woman with raven hair, and a scowl on her face, had appeared from the plants. It was Kennedy's mom.

"Kennedy Parker Jones!" she yelled, her hands on her hip. "What the hell are you doing here?" Her eyes were bursting in anger, and then pointed her finger Seth. "You're not off the hook either Sethson. Your mother is just as pissed as I am! Both of you come here." 

They both gave her a sheepish smile.

"Mom—"

"Mrs. Jones—"

"I don't want to hear it from either of you," she snapped, and gestured her hand forward. "Let's go boys."

The whole trip to the picnic sight only consisted of nagging from the woman. Her carping was so much that Kennedy and Seth felt like their ears were going to start bleeding. They were practically adults, and they wanted to be treated like ones. The time that was spent in the secluded place was only a couple of minutes, at the most ten. It was no big deal.

When they returned to the top of the hill, the admonishing never ceased. Both Kennedy's and Seth's mom still had things to say to the both of them. 

Finally, when the women decided it was enough criticizing their sons, and they all sat down on the large, woven cloth and began eating. The boys awkwardly sat next to each other, refusing to look each other, but the tip of their fingers were on the verge of touching.

Kennedy replayed the scene in his head. Why had he kissed him? He himself didn't know why he did it. He thought of Seth as a friend, a brother, but back then he felt confused and dizzy, his heart beating loudly. 

Gingerly, from the corner of his eye, Kennedy took a peek at Seth.

He was smiling, laughing even, talking away with the pale boy's baby sister, Layla. She was young, six years younger than Kennedy, and shamelessly flirting with with Seth. She curled her dark hair within her finger, and fluttered her eyelashes. Apparently, Seth was completely oblivious to her ogling, and continued chatting away. 

He was feeling resentful of her, and it wasn't because she was being her normal obnoxious self.

"Really, Layla? You're twelve, start acting like it," he remarked rather scornfully, interrupting their conversation. The preteen glared at Kennedy, and stuck out her tongue.

Seth just sat their in the midst of their bickering, feeling awkward.

"You're just jealous!" she teased, smirking.

"Am not!" he argued back, wanting to tape her mouth shut. But she did have a point. Kennedy was in denial.

There was something; a new feeling that arose from his chest that wasn't there before.


	3. In Hiding: Part 3

The summer day was the hottest this month; the temperature reached almost beyond ninety–five degrees fahrenheit. The sun shined brightly, no clouds in the sky as the two boys eagerly dived into the fresh, cooling water. The lake was grandiose; it was filled with pellucid blue liquid and surrounded by beautiful foliage. It was a huge surprise to Kennedy that there was no one but them there.

The pothole, was located a bit off course of the Moore's cabin. To find it, they had to hike ten minutes up the woods, turning multiple lefts and rights on a rocky pathway until they finally arrived at a green sign that stated "DENCOVER'S LAKE AHEAD. PRIVATE PROPERTY OF DENCOVER CABINS."

Seth was wearing dark blue swim trunks, that snug perfectly on his sturdy, narrow hips. Just as Kennedy had expected, the older boy was well–muscled, his torso consisted of nothing less than an developed six pack. It was all very eye catching, especially when the the dark haired brunet came out of the water, the glistening fluid dripping down his chiseled chest and body. He had looked like something out of Men's Health Magazine and the Kennedy found it difficult for his eyes not to boggle at the view in front of him.

His heart began palpitating, but not from fear or panic—it was an emotion something much more new to him. Over the past several weeks, he had come to realize that what he felt for the other boy was, simply to put it, sexual attraction. 

There were times where he would take peeks of Seth, and smile to himself, unable to contain the joy that he felt. It almost made him forget that he wasn't normal, almost. But again, there would always be that voice in his head, reminding of things that could never be because, Seth was just too perfect and too good for him. Besides, he never wanted to talk about the kiss at the park. Every time Kennedy tried to ask about it once, he shied away, blatantly ignoring him until the topic was changed. 

Obviously, he wasn't interested. And as much as the thought ached his heart, he was still very thankful that Seth was willing to be his friend.

The young man swept his thick locks back, and smiled. "Aren't you hot in that?" he asked, pointing to Kennedy's black, long sleeved rash guard.

And truth be told, he was feeling sweltering and sweaty, particularly due to his binder underneath his shirt, but the smaller boy hide his discomfort with a chuckle. "Nah, I'm good. Anyway, I have to wear this cus' of my pale skin. If I didn't, I'd look like a burnt hot dog."

It wasn't a lie per say, he really would turn rouge in this blazing heat, but it wasn't the real reason he wore the shirt.

The joke received a laugh from Seth, and he lightly patted Kennedy's shoulder. "We'll Midge, we can't all have good genes like me." 

"Yeah, sure. Whatever you say Sethson." Kennedy snorted, rolling his eyes, pretending to be disinterested, when in truth, he really agreed whole heartedly with the comment.

They stayed there for an hour, passing a huge beach ball back in forth between them. At one point, they began throwing it up in the air as high as they could, racing after it. It wasn't anything particularly exciting, but as long as Kennedy had Seth by his side, he was never bored. The boy, who was now practically a man, always found ways to make his day thrilling.

Seth was going further into the water, diving in deeper than he should have. When he resurfaced, he took in a deep breath, his eyes glimmering in astonishment and childlike curiosity. "There was something down there! A tunnel, I saw it. It was fucking huge! Come on, let's go see it."

The pale boy was going to follow after him, but a sharp, prickling pain had invaded his body. He suddenly felt nauseous, and he cupped one hand over his face preventing himself from vomiting right there in the beautiful water. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

His period, an amalgam of fatigue, cramps and nausea, had struck a week earlier than it was supposed to. 

He didn't wait for the other boy to come back up. Hastily, he swam back to the shore, hoping a stream of blood didn't appear in the water. 

The area around Kennedy's feet were muddy when he finally hit land, but he couldn't care less. Taking the towel that he left on a low branch, he eagerly wrapped it around his waist, trying to hide any sign of red liquid. He wanted to leave, and retreat back to the cabin as soon as possible. The boy was tempted to start running back, but he knew that he couldn't leave Seth alone.

When the young brunet reemerged from the crystal clear water, he immediately noticed that Kennedy was no longer with him. He frantically searched for the small boy, his head twisting in all directions possible, and then he stopped. His blue eyes landed on the dirt terrain, and he spotted the pale boy hunched over in a fetal position. 

"Hey!" Seth hollered, cupping his around his mouth. "What are you doing?"

Kennedy tried to respond, but his voice was stifled by an agonizing pain he felt in his lower body. Sitting down, he gripped his waist tightly, the pain subsiding slightly from the pressure he applied. 

The tanned boy swam as fast as he could back to the shore.

"Kenny? Are you okay?" Seth was concerned, and he placed the back of his hand out on his forehead, checking the smaller boy's temperature. He was burning up like an oven.

"No, it hurts," he replied weakly, his eyes fluttering. Without hesitation, Seth picked up Kennedy, holding him in his arms like a bride. He noticed that a small trail of blood coming from his shorts, and the first thing that came to his mind was the boy was badly injured. So, in a state of perturbation, he ran back in the cabin with Kennedy in his arms.

The door of the cabin wasn't locked, but there was something stuck between the hinges of the doorway. With a fierce kick, the older boy had bashed the door open, a few shards of woods littering the ground. None to which he paid any mind to. 

The air of the cabin was much more fresher, and cooler. 

Carefully, he set the boy down on the living room couch, and searched for something–anything to cool down Kennedy's fever. But there was nothing, but a frozen fish in the freezer. Maybe a cold shower would help?

"Bathroom," Kennedy mumbled out, attempting to strand up on his on. He wambled a bit, his legs colliding with the table next to him. 

"Hold onto me," the older boy instructed, and Kennedy held on, the firm muscles of the boy's arm keeping his place. Slowly, they made their way to the bathroom, setting Kennedy down onto the toilet. He leaned into the shower, turning the knob on cold.

As Seth was preoccupied, the pale boy's mind kept wandering. 

Tell him. Tell him the truth.

No, don't tell him. 

Tell him! Or he'll find out on his own.

No he won't.

For fucksake, you're already bleeding on the cabin's mahogany floors.

Kennedy, as ridiculous as it sounded, was fighting with himself. It was a hard choice to make, and despite not wanting to confess, he felt that he had no other option but to tell the truth. The pale boy was still ashamed of his body, and yes, the fear of being rejected by his friend rang loudly in his ear constantly reminding him, but it was the only way.

Seth was becoming suspicious, he had noticed things that others wouldn't have. He noticed that Kennedy didn't like to be touched as much, and there moments he would be moody, and downright did not make sense. He had found his binder, and his pads under the cabinet. In a rush, he had said that the binder was for his sister's back, and Seth had accepted it as the truth that time, but what if something happened that he couldn't keep up with his lies?

"We need to talk." Kennedy's voice was as low as a grumble, but the dark haired brunette could hear him just fine. "Don't talk just listen."

Seth nodded and the raven haired boy continued. "I'm fine. I'm just on my period."

The taller boy seemed appalled by the statement, and he glared at him. "Kenny, honestly, this isn't time for joking. You're really sick right now, and I'm fucking worried—"

"I know you're worried. But could you just shut the hell up for a moment," he snapped. 

Seth gulped, startled by the other's sharp tone. He pursed his lip, then nodded timidly. "Alright then, explain."

"You know–um–when I pushed you off of me?"

"Yeah, so what? I said I was sorry."

"I pushed you off because your hand, touched my chest," Kennedy admitted, looking down at the wood floors in shame.

"I don't understand." He scrunched his brows, placing a hand on Kennedy's shoulder. "Are you saying that your...um, trans?"

"No, I'm saying that I'm a freak." It was a feeble, derisive laugh that escaped the smaller boy's lips. "I'm a fucking freak, Seth. I'm not really a boy, nor am I girl."

Gently, the taller boy grasped a hold of Kennedy's chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. "You're not a freak."

The pale boy turned his head away, when suddenly the nausea became worse, and the fever spiked. His face was hotly red, and irritated, sweat dripping down. But the worst feeling was neither the nausea, nor the cramps, but the binder. Kennedy deeply regretted putting that thing on. He could feel the swelling of his chest, deeply exacerbrated by the compress. 

His breasts were sore.

And he knew right then, the wrap needed to come off.

"H-help me get this thing off," he whispered, the grip on Seth's arm becoming fainter. The disorientation was strong, and he wasn't sure how much longer he would be able take the pain.

"What thing?" 

Weakly, Kennedy looked down at his long, black swimsuit, and Seth's eyes widened in realization. 

"Oh," Seth gulped, his face slightly flustered. He never thought he would be taking Kennedy's shirt off like this. But nevertheless, he did what he was told to do. 

Taking the polyester fabric in his hand, he lifted the shirt up, exposing the tight band. Seth was shocked at what he saw. Bruises, and red marks invaded Kennedy's underarms, and beneath his ribs. The material was wet too, a sign of his perfuse sweating. 

"Lift your arms," Seth instructed, and lazily the boy held them up. He threw the black cloth, away from the Kennedy's torso, haphazardly falling somewhere on the ground. With the shirt now away, Seth made his way to chest compression, unwinding it. The tight fabric fell off, and Seth wanted to look away for decency sake, but he couldn't because he the sight was too shocking.

"Kennedy, your chest is black and blue!"

Kennedy was too tired and too out of it to care about Seth's staring, and yelling. His eyes were half-lidded, head pounding, the cramps prickling him; there was no room in his mind to feel embarrassed. "My chest hurts like hell," he moaned, his voice becoming weaker. 

"Because they're fucking swollen!" Seth yelled, pacing around the bathroom. "Why would you do that Kennedy? Why?" His eyes were piercing Kennedy's own, but the boy stood still, heavily breathing.

"It...it seemed like a good idea...at the time."

"Well it was a stupid idea! Shit, you need to go to the hospital."

"No, please. No...no hospital." He was on the verge of losing consciousness, and he knew it.

"You're fucking going to the hospital. This isn't a debate." Seth combed his hand through his hair. "Damn you. Why do you have to be so stubborn?—hey, Kennedy? Kennedy!"

And with that, the ebony boy passed out.


End file.
